Happy birthday, Captain
by Prisoner Len
Summary: Belated birthday fic for Cid. Cid thinks everyone forgot his birthday. A visit from Vincent tells him at least one person didn't. Valenwind, oneshot.


Sunlight sparkled in the crisp morning air as the sun slowly said good morning to the world. It was a beautiful day; the snow around the _Highwind_ ("Why don't we set down here?" Cloud had insisted. Here being near the northern crater. The blond clearly had a thing for the cold.) was finally melting, the sun was warm, and the first signs of spring were finally starting to show. Cid hated it. Blue eyes squinted in the early morning light, a light breeze blowing the smoke from his cigarette away. It wasn't that he hated the weather, or the morning, or even the location. He hated the _day_. February 22nd. His fucking birthday.

He scoffed, stubbed out his cigarette, and stomped back to the ship. He didn't hate his birthday because he was aging, no. He was still relatively young, after all. What bothered him was that nobody _remembered_. A little "happy birthday" would mean the world to him; hell, even Yuffie calling him an old man would make the day better. Nobody remembered the previous year, and nobody would remember this year. It was how things were, and he simply tried not to let it bother him.

Hands in pockets, he trod quietly down the hallway towards his room; it was still early, and he hoped to get a little more shut eye. With a sigh, and resisting the urge to light up another smoke, he swung open his door, and nearly tripped on his own feet in surprise. Vincent Valentine was perched on his bed, toying with the foil wrapping on a small box in his leather-clad lap. His long hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, and his cloak and gauntlet were nowhere to be seen. The gunner seemed completely distracted by the package, and didn't look up until the door clicked shut behind Cid.

"The hell ya doin' in here, Vin?"

Vincent stiffly brought himself to his feet, holding the box out and looking away. "Happy birthday, captain."

Cid blinked, worked his mouth wordlessly, then blinked again. "Ya remembered?"

The pale man whipped his head around, crimson eyes confused. "Of course."

The blond closed his mouth, swallowed, and nodded gruffly, taking the package from the man and examining it before slipping around Vincent and sitting on the edge of the bed. Hesitantly, Vincent sank back onto the bed next to him, looking at his hands on his lap. The wrapping job was fairly… messy, to say the least, and Cid had a sneaking suspicion that Vincent himself wrapped the gift. He peeled the foil off quickly, tossing it to the floor, and stared down at the box in confusion. Vincent bought him… chocolate? Before he had a chance to question the man, a pale hand pried the box open. Cid gasped.

"Vin…"

"I wasn't sure what you would want."

"Where'd ya get this, Vin?" Cid asked, carefully lifting a rather intricately carved model airship from the box.

"Golden Saucer." The gunner mumbled, watching the pilot examine the small object in awe.

Carefully, he set the gift on his bedside table, then smiled at Vincent. "Thanks, Vin. Didn' think anyone woulda remembered."

A rare smile graced the fine, pale feature, and Vincent nodded slightly. "You're welcome, Highwind." He climbed to his feet once again before turning to face Cid. "I will leave you to your morning."

"Ya don' have ta go. Was jus' gonna sleep a bit anyhow."

With that, Cid wrapped a calloused hand around Vincent's thin wrist and tugged him back down to sit on the bed. They sat in silence for awhile; Vincent studying the hands in his lap once again, while Cid lit up another cigarette—which Vincent regarded with an irritated look. Truthfully, he enjoyed Vincent's company. The man was quiet, he didn't barge into anyone's business, and he was easy on the eyes, too. _Easy on the eyes? The fuck kinda thinkin's that?_ Mentally, he kicked himself. He had been hoping those thoughts had finally left him alone.

Yes, Cid Highwind liked Vincent Valentine. Only a little, though. A very minuscule amount. His raven hair, his graceful features, his eyes, his… _Aww, hell, who am I kiddin'? Fuckin' love the guy._

"Chief?"

The blond jerked his head around—he had forgotten that the object of his thoughts was sitting next to him. His cigarette had worked its way down to the butt, and he stubbed it out in the ashtray next to the model. "Hm?"

Vincent fidgeted (Since when did he _fidget_?) with the sleeves of the black long-sleeved button-up he was wearing for a moment, then turned his gaze onto Cid. They stared at each other; blue eyes questioning, crimson eyes unreadable. Slowly and carefully, Vincent leaned in and brushed his lips against Cid's. He closed his eyes, tense and ready to spurt apologies, ready for the rejection.

But it never came.

Cid was _kissing him back_. A hand appeared at the back of Vincent's neck, keeping his lips pressed to his companion's. Vincent, unsure and inexperienced, was the first to pull back. He rested his forehead on the pilot's shoulder, determined to hide the furious blush working its way across his face.

"So… uh, Vincent." Cid spoke after a few moments of silence, easing the gunner—who immediately looked away—from his shoulder.

"I apologize, Highwind."

"Vin, ya don' need to apologi—"

Vincent lifted his head suddenly, crimson eyes once again focused on Cid. "I love you."

With a lopsided grin, the pilot pressed his lips to Vincent's in a chaste kiss, then kissed his ear, whispering, "Love ya too, Vin."

Maybe the rest of the group forgot his birthday. Maybe it would always be that way. Cid didn't mind, because _Vincent_ remembered. Vincent remembered the next year too, and the year after. And at the end of the day, that's all that really mattered to the pilot, no matter how much of a hard ass act he put up everyday.

**Well, I just kind of... threw this together and posted it, so I'm sorry if there are grammatical errors/it feels rushed.**


End file.
